And then her mouth is on my cock. In seconds flat, I’ve gone from wearing clothes to wearing her warm, diligent lips. She has stretchy, silky cheeks, and a tongue that knows how to massage me, even from the depths of her mouth and throat.
I need this too, I think, hating myself for such weakness. Part of my mind still believes that I’m taking advantage of her. That I’m just using her suggestible, weakened mental state to my benefit. That I’m really no hero to do something like this to a woman I’m supposed to be taking care of. But all these thoughts are quickly drowned out by Juliet and her devoted sucking of my cock.
Up and down she goes, sucking and slurping each inch. Each bit of texture, each vein comes under her attentive, wet, fat tongue and silky throat. It’s so warm, there are times I’m not sure I’m in her mouth. It feels like I’m in her pussy. Just wetter. Slimier, but I’m not turned off in the least. If anything, I’m even more sensitive because of her saliva.
The words spill out from under her lips as she moves. And there’s very little room for these words, since my cock is almost too big for her. As it is, she gags with each downward movement. But she doesn’t stop. She just continues to give me a blow job, saying, “Thank you for giving me your big, fat cock. Thank you for giving it to me to suck on.”
Over these words, she smacks her lips. She licks my head, adding, “Your big, manly cock makes me feel better. You give me the most delicious to eat.” Here, her words are thick and wet. Like her dripping saliva. “It’s so juicy, Brandon, and I’m going to suck you dry.”
She continues her work on me after this, and my head is practically swimming. Now I feel like I’m the one dreaming. I’m detached from my head with how floaty and dizzy I feel. Despite the size difference between Juliet’s mouth and lips and my dick, she keeps eating me. Sucking and caressing me, as if her life depends on it.
And my cock can do nothing less than respond. It begins to pulse, stiffen, and I feel my balls beginning to pucker. They suck in, and before I realize what’s happening I almost cum. I think about blowing my load in her mouth as she says, “Thank you for giving me your cock so I can feel better,” but I hold back.
Somehow, I manage to keep back my cum. I pull my cock gently from her mouth, not wanting to miss actually fucking her.
At the same time my cock comes out of her mouth, I pull her from her knees and bend her over the bed, getting a look at her small, pretty pussy laid out in front of me. I shiver, just because of how shiny and puffy it looks. I can’t cum before I’ve had some of that, I think, setting my breathing as well as my aim. I can’t lose it. Not yet. Not until I’ve had her for real.
Chapter 12
Juliet
Over the bed, my pussy up in the air and ready for him, I love the way he’s talking to me now. “I can’t wait to fuck your sexy pussy,” he says. “I love your curvy body and your dripping wet cunt.”
The low growl he has in his voice is disarming. But in a good way. If it wasn’t for the bed supporting me, I’d melt to the floor with what his voice is doing to me. How weak in the knees and belly I feel under the rumble in his words.
“I can’t wait to give you a taste of what you did such a good job preparing— making hard for me,” he says, teasing my lips with his head. Even with just the slightest touch, I’m going crazy. I want nothing more than to lean back and impale myself on him, but he puts a hand on my back, as if sensing that desire. “I can see how hungry you are for me, so I’m gonna let you have it. All of it.”
On “all of it” he wiggles his head on my pussy lips, before pushing it part way into my hole. For a moment, there’s a pocket of silence. In it, I hear a wrapper of something being opened. I hear latex, then the snap of a condom’s edge, but I’m too hungry to have that disturb me.
The moment he enters me, the feeling of how thick and hard he is, is breathtaking. It’s so full of texture, so full of meaty, warm parts, I almost lose it right there. I tremble, feeling my lips stretching for him. With each passing inch, I’m being pulled wider and wider, but it feels amazing, addictive, like an itch that can only be scratched when my pussy is filled to bursting.
I tremble as Brandon pushes further into me, hitting the top of my cervix and womb with his head. Down from this I feel absolutely full. Swollen, like I’ve had gallons of water to drink, or a few pounds of food. But as uncomfortable as it feels, it also feels pleasurable.
I moan, saying, “I’m so full.”
“Are you?” Brandon’s voice is light, but smoldering. Curious and commanding. “Well, just think. That’s not even all of me, but you’re a good girl for taking all that you can.”
With this, he moves the hand he’s had on my back to my hips. The other hand comes to the other side in the next second, working to rock me back and forth on him. On the toned and hot length of him. “And without complaining one bit.”
As he moves me gently up and down on him, I don’t even feel him leave. I don’t feel any end to my pussy or his shaft. Each continue on and on like a blissful, wet Nirvana.
The only thing that lets me know how much he’s moving in and out of me is the sound of my juices squishing and dribbling under the movement. Also, the feeling of cramping and stretching that follows, but neither is painful or too unpleasant to stop. It just makes me feel all the more filled, all the more dominated by his cock, and that’s what I want. It’s the only thing that’s going to keep the nightmares and bad memories away.
“How full are you now?” Brandon asks, pressing his dick in to me and carefully dragging it out again. Each motion is designed to make me feel stuffed by him, so that’s exactly what I answer.
“Stuffed,” I groan pleasantly, wishing I had more room for him. If I did, I would take him all the way up to his balls. But I settle for something almost as good.
I look between my legs as he fucks me, enjoying the fact that I can see at least three or four more inches of him below my lip line. He really is that big, I think, feeling torn between a delight and fear, at least four inches of him won’t even fit in me. And he’s so thick, too!
On thinking and seeing this, my pussy lips tighten, squirting thicker, creamier looking juice down him. I squeal, enjoying how my extra juice seems to encourage him. My squeal seems to get him to fuck me a little harder. And that’s when I get to see his silky, glistening length spear in and out of me like a magical beast.
“I love your big appetite, Juliet,” he growls. “It makes me happy to feed you.”
Brandon take some of the extra juice I’ve given him, and uses it to rub the front of my pussy. He rubs my clit, lips and hood with it. The moment his fingers touch down I’m crying. I’m feeling consumed by pleasure and pain. My memories of being notified of my father’s death in combat; memories of how empty I’ve felt since then, all come rushing back to me, but not in a bad way, strangely.
I lean into Brandon’s rough, knowledgeable fingers. I let his cock pound faster and faster into me, even though part of me feels like I’ll break. I think I might split into two under his long, hearty member. But I don’t ask for him to stop. I just let him keep going, knowing it’s the only way to break the cycle of bad dreams.
Through my stomach and heart ache I say, “Fuck my pain away.” Tears start streaming down my cheeks, and I lean more and more into his fingers. Into the orgasm I can feel building. “Fuck it all away, please, Brandon. Just make it go away!”
Without any word from him, Brandon picks me up and fucks me with my legs dangling over his big muscled arms. He keeps me suspended on him, much like I imagine he might in my fantasy. And, like in my fantasy, now I can really see how much bigger than me he is— how much more of his cock there is left to go, even after I’ve been stuffed to my rafters.
And it makes me crazy. I put a hand down my front, and began to rub myself off. I time my rubbing, vibrator-like movements to his inward motions. To the feeling of his head bumping into my womb.
I cum shortly after being taken up in his arms and fucked in this way,
but I don’t stop and neither does Brandon. He keeps pumping me, even after I’ve had my first and second orgasm. It’s only as I’m reaching my third that I feel him start to inflate. He’s warm and throbbing, and I know he’s close.
We cum at the same time, but something happens to me that’s never happened before. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s as if I ejaculate. Whatever I do, I release a fountain of liquid all over him and all over the floor with my third orgasm. It comes out of me with a scream. It dribbles down and out of me after the initial squirt, and I feel truly spent. Exhausted.
I want to murmur apologies for losing myself on him. For doing whatever it is I just did, but I don’t have the energy and neither does Brandon. He just takes me off his hot, large cock and places me in bed, drying me in the sheets.
Before I realize what’s happening, Brandon’s climbed in bed next to me. He wraps his strong, cool arm around me and just tells me to sleep.
For the first time in a long time, that actually sounds good to me. This time as I fall asleep, my mind is on Brandon.
Briefly I wonder if I’ve given too much of myself to this man. A man I just met. But, as I fall into a warm, gooey dream, filled with thoughts of him in my mind and his strong arms wrapped around me, I don’t care. I’m too happy and too at ease right now to disturb my good feelings.
Even with reality.
Chapter 13
Brandon
I’m awake before Juliet. Which is fine by me. As I slip my arm off of her slim, still-warm body, I can’t believe how gorgeous she is. I also can’t believe we just fucked like that. When I’m supposed to be protecting her, and when I know she’s suffering from mental health issues. But as I get out of bed and quietly dress, I’m glad to see that Juliet’s sleeping.
Peacefully. Easily. And after an entire night of wakefulness split up by nightmares.
As much as I want to beat myself up about taking advantage of my guest sexually, I just can’t. Not when I see so clearly some benefits to the contact. Not just for her but for me as well. For the first time in ages, I’m actually full of energy in the morning.
Bright eyed.
Which is not something that happens without a great amount of force. And even then, most days I’m just up and out of bed because I have to be. Because my Navy training won’t let me just lay around in bed all day.
But not this morning. As I finish slipping my clothes and shoes on, I’m thinking of what else I can do for Juliet. How else I can make her more at “home” especially after how we ended the night last night.
Breakfast, definitely. Then some time to relax. Maybe even let her sleep more, I think, heading toward the door.
Suddenly, Juliet’s up. For as peacefully as it looked she was sleeping, she’s suddenly awake. Grabbing toward me, like I’m a part of her she can bear to lose. “Don’t leave me,” she says. “Don’t leave me alone.”
Dutifully, I make my way back to the bed. I sit down on it, bringing her back down to a relaxed position. I stroke a few pieces of her hair from her face. Wild pieces, that look like parts of her fringe, or other aspects she might style. Might make cool and unique, if she had the product. Something about her lets me know she’s not lacking on the experience. The knowledge.
“I’m not leaving you,” I tell her. “I’m not going to just leave you alone, Juliet.” With this, I stroke her cheek. Fluff her pillows, and tuck the blankets and sheets more tightly around her. As I do, I get a quick glance and feel of her nipples. They are hard and puckered in the morning air, but I don’t let myself linger. “I was just going to go make some coffee. Some breakfast, since it looked like you were sleeping so peacefully.”
I fall silent for a moment.
When Juliet doesn’t immediately move to say anything, I add, “We can talk if you want. We don’t have to. I’m fine with not talking, if that’s what you need.” Sex or no sex, she’s still struggling. Still dealing with some kind of trauma, and while it might’ve been okay for me to “forget” that last night — give her what she needed to “feel better” — she’s still unwell. She still needs me to provide safety and comfort, which I need to remind her I’m here to do. And that it’s on her terms, not mine. “Whatever’s gonna make you feel as good as you can feel right now, Juliet, I want to do that.”
As I go to get up and head to the door again, Juliet comes to life again. Stirs, as if distance from me is the only thing that will get her to move. To open up. Fear of losing me now, it seems, not of me being too close.
Fear of me capturing her seems to be a “night before” fear of hers. Not something alive and well this morning.
“How did you know?”
I turn to her. “How did I know what?”
Juliet’s beautifully haunted face tightens. “About the night terrors,” she whispers. “How did you know about them?”
I clear my throat. I didn’t want to have to bring up my past as a Navy seal to her, but if I don’t answer her correctly, honestly and truthfully — she might go back to being closed up. Distrustful of me, so I say, “I used to have dreams like that myself, Juliet. I was a seal in the Navy.” I pause, seeing and hearing dull recreations of my combat. Before today — before I got a handle on my own trauma — they used to be in Technicolor, like they are for Juliet. “Saw a lot of things I shouldn’t have. A lot of things I didn’t think I would ever get over, so I used to have a lot of dreams.” I lick my lips. “Night terrors, like you. Had a hard time for a while after I got home. Still have a hard some days, but there is a way through. There is help to those who want it.”
To my surprise — and secret relief — Juliet looks enlivened, encouraged by my words.
For the first time since she came to stay with me, she smiles.
It’s not the biggest, brightest smile I’ve ever seen, but compared to her gloom and doom from the night before, it’s a fucking ray of sunshine.
Chapter 14
Juliet
Hearing him say what I’ve suspected since he used the term “night terrors” — that he’s military in some way, Navy specifically — makes me smile. For some reason it lightens my heart at the same moment I feel heaviness coming over me. “Well, at least it means I’m not crazy. That I’m not the one and only person in the world to have the kind of dreams that I’ve been having.”
As I speak, I watch Brandon come back over to the bed. Sit on it. As he does, I admire the tattoos — the edges of ink I can see from under the collar and sleeves of his shirt. “Like the one last night?” he asks.
I nod, feeling torn between fascination at his body — at whatever he’s had inked on him—and what he’s just brought up.
“Do you want to talk about it, or…?” For a moment, Brandon looks like just asking me is a losing battle. And it probably is, based on how I was behaving with him the night before. But now I want to tell him. I want to open up, since keeping it inside isn’t helping.
“It was about my dad.” Not five words out of my mouth, and I’m already feeling choked up. I’m already feeling short of breath, but I grit my teeth and continue. “It was about the day I found out he was killed in action.” Next to me, Brandon makes a sympathetic sound. He doesn’t move to touch me immediately, but the sound is as warm as any hug or touch. “In the dream the soldiers who came to notify me had snakes coming out of their mouths.” I shudder, thinking about it all over again. Seeing the way their mouths open and vomit snakes. Hundreds. Thousands. And how those snakes wrapped around my throat. “The snakes wrapped around my throat. Made me feel like I was going to die.” I pause, watching him. Glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.
Brandon nods. His face is as sober as I feel.
“Choke to death, you know?” I pause again, fiddling with fingernails that aren’t really there. I’ve chewed them all down. “But in real life. In real life it was so much worse, you know? There weren’t any snakes or anything, but when those officers came to tell me that my father died — that he was killed in a bombing that happ
ened where he was stationed — I died. I collapsed on the floor and seriously thought I would never get up again. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe that he was really dead like that, you know?” I sniffle, feeling my throat tighten all over again. My eyes beginning to water. “They came saying that they would’ve come sooner, but needed the time to identify the body, you know?” Tears leak out of my eyes, remembering how badly I thought he must have to be damaged or burned to be that unrecognizable. “And it was on my birthday, too.”
This revelation makes Brandon gasp. Grab my hand, and I don’t bother to pull away. “Oh my God, Juliet,” he says softly. “On your birthday?”
I nod, feeling more tears coming. This pseudo-stranger has more sympathy for me than most of my friends did when they found out.
“That’s terrible! That’s such terrible news to receive any day… But on your birthday? That’s just… Horrible.”
“Yeah.” I wipe in my eyes, feeling numb. “And I thought it was the flower guy, too.” I suck back a sob. “Daddy always sent me flowers on my birthday, so…” I can’t even finish this sentence. Just mentioning my dad is enough to make me feel punched in the throat.
Brandon puts his arm around me. Draws me to him. Hold me tight. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. That must’ve been so hard for you.”
I nod again, but I’m far from being able to see clearly. My tears have gotten too heavy. “So I just decided to go for a drive. I drove outside of the Albuquerque city limits and toward the mountain. Toward the place where my dad used to take me all the time. A place he enjoyed going when he was home.” I wipe at my eyes again. “I drove as close as I could, and then ran up the mountain. I just ran and ran and ran until I got there. I don’t even remember how I got from my car to our spot really, but I was suddenly there. And that’s where you found me, I guess.” Even as I think on it, all it is a blur. The only thing that sticks out is the feeling of Brandon’s arm around me pulling me back. Much like it’s doing now, except where none at the edge of a cliff. “Thinking I need saving. But I didn’t really need saving. I was just numbing out from my reality. But not by killing myself or anything. Just trying to stop thinking. Feeling, you know?” I snuggle into him, feeling that need rising in me again. “You finally allowed me to escape from it last night.”
Hold Onto Me_A Secret Baby Romance Page 6